


Damned

by hunters_retreat



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Incest, M/M, No one does sacrifice like Dean Winchester, One-Sided Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-04
Updated: 2010-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-05 16:42:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5382749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hunters_retreat/pseuds/hunters_retreat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"<i>did it occur to you just maybe he doesn't feel the same way that you do but you can't think about that just yet, not just yet because, you know that it feels too good right now"</i> </p>
            </blockquote>





	Damned

 

  
The first time it happened it was nothing more than hard and heated as you pushed him up against the wall of the motel room.  There was no time for finesse and soft touches when you were reaffirming the blood still pumping in your brother’s veins and he was opening to you like he wanted to swallow you whole.

 

 

It comes slow sometimes now, when you press him into the mattress and kiss him lazily, letting your bodies meld together until his hips press up into the flesh of your belly, begging in ways his tongue is far too busy for.

 

 

Those night are few and far between though and tonight you’ve barely made it in the door before the need for him threatens to overwhelm you.  You turn and see him watching you with eyes lidded and it shocks you because you know he gets aroused by this, you know the way he loves you, but you see that look and it undoes you.  You pretend you didn’t see it though because you need and he needs and everything will work itself out if you can just stay together, if you can just make it through one more night, every night.

 

 

You pull his shirt over his head without waiting for an invitation because you know it won’t come.  He rarely offers himself, except when the blood is calling and then he’s fitting inside your mouth, inside your body like there’s no place else he’s ever been. 

 

 

He’s not docile, not tame at all and no matter what else he feels about this, once you start it he’s pulling at your shirt and stripping you bare.  Tender moments between you happen as you stumble out of clothes, moments no one else would think remarkable sweet or even reminiscent of sentimentality, but the grip of a hip and the way a finger trails over a scar sends shivers through you both, memory and anticipation racing across skin.

 

 

You push him onto the bed and he pulls you after him, rolling until he’s on top of you.  He leans down and licks his way into your mouth and you moan into it, no worries about what the neighbors hear when the place rents by the hour.  He rubs his hips against yours and you feel it as your dick slips between his cheeks, feel the wet and open hole he’s teasing you with.  Still open from the night before and you want him as much now as you had then even with the higher body count and another hard day of hunting lying in wait tomorrow.

 

 

He doesn’t give you time to prepare for it, doesn’t give you time to prepare him, just shifts and sinks down on your cock, letting out a deep moan that steals your breath with its broken need. 

 

 

He moves just a little until he’s got you right where he wants you and then he’s pressing his hands into your chest, rising over you and when you look up all you can see are his green eyes staring down at you, needing you more than he’s ever needed anything.

 

 

You see the rest of it too and you remind yourself that it doesn’t matter now.  Later.  You can deal with it later.

 

 

Always later.  Never now because now means change and this … this is too good.

He rides above you, hips undulating, your hands on his pale skin, tracing over shared wounds and broken memories, places that are wounded no more but where your fingers and lips and teeth mark again in remembrance.

 

 

He bites his lower lip and you press your hips up into him, reach fingers around hardened flesh and then he’s dancing above you, head thrown back and voice begging, pleading for release.  He likes it hard and fast and you give it to him tonight, feeling his body clench around you.

 

 

You flip him over after you’ve wrung the last of his orgasm from him and it’s always amazing the way you can manhandle him, the way your big brother just lets you.  He doesn’t even try to get on all fours with his shaking legs, but pulls a pillow under his hips and you’re pressing back inside him, his ass tilted just perfectly for you as you fuck him long and hard into the mattress.

 

 

When you come, it’s hard and wet and so fucking good inside him, so much better, tighter, holier than you ever thought this damnable act could be. 

 

 

You pull out slowly because even if he likes it hard and fast you know that he’ll be feeling it in the morning and you go get a wash cloth and clean yourself up before you take care of him. 

 

 

He rolls onto his side, facing away from you and you take it for the comfort it is, your brother in your arms, the two of you on the road together again, with nothing, no one to come between you.

 

 

You press one hand over his chest as you curl up behind him and he twines your fingers together in a gesture you would never have though him capable of, but then again Dean has always been able to surprise you.  The depths of what he is willing to do for you always surprise you.

 

 

You are his world and have been his whole life. 

 

 

He is everything you have ever wanted and could never have.

 

 

You pull him onto his back and press a kiss to his temple and try to catch his eye.  He won’t look at you, but stares at your lips instead, grabbing the back of your neck and trying to bring your lips together.

 

 

But you have to look this time.  You have to see.  Those little glimpses told you enough but you need to see the truth.

 

 

You pull back and see the concern and surprise in his eyes.  You see the determination as well and you know that moment earlier was true.  You know that they all were, every damn night. 

 

 

He doesn’t want this.  He’s never wanted this, but no one does sacrifice like Dean Winchester.  To keep his little brother safe and sane, he’d give up everything he was, every last part of himself.

 

 

You know you should say something, tell Dean he doesn’t need to, but you’re too damn tired and when Dean tugs gently again, you let your lips fall on your brothers and ignore the niggling doubt in the back of your mind.

 

 

Maybe Dean doesn’t want this, but he’s willing to give it freely.  You’re not sure what it says about you that you’re willing to accept it, if it makes you too damned to be saved in the first place, but you have everything you want in your arms.

 

 

And some nights, you think the world could burn just so you could keep it. 

 

 


End file.
